


The Best Laid Plans

by velshtein



Category: One Piece
Genre: General, Humor, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-12-20
Updated: 2009-12-20
Packaged: 2017-10-04 19:11:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 300
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/33181
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/velshtein/pseuds/velshtein
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Marco deals with Shanks and mistletoe. Written for the onepiece_300 livejournal community.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Best Laid Plans

Marco just stared for a while through the slightly ajar door. Watching the man at the end of the short hallway.

He was just standing there. Waiting. Cheery as ever and happily chatting up the familiar figure of Ben Beckman.

That damned Red-Haired bastard.

Marco eyed the bright green sprig of mistletoe, that had certainly _not_ been there when he'd passed through the hall earlier, with a frown, and weighed his options.

Staying put to out-wait Shanks didn't sound too bad and Marco was a patient man but damn it, it reeked too much of _hiding_.

Kicking open the tightly stuck window behind him and just throwing himself out was tempting. But he'd have to transform at least partially to avoid a broken neck, at this height, and the townspeople had enough anxiety problems with the Whitebeard Pirates staying for their holiday, _without_ him adding the sight of a man taking a spectacular flaming dive from their windows...

Marco shook his head suddenly. He was his old man's son, dammit! And he didn't run. Not from danger, not from enemies, and _not_ from screwy bastards who didn't know when to quit.

He carefully opened the door and quickly strode down the hallway. Shanks turned, startled by the sound, and grinned "Marco! Well what do--

"Ben," Marco interrupted, impassively, turning to the dark-haired man. He swiftly hooked an arm around Ben's neck, pulled him down, and hotly kissed him ignoring the strangled sounds the taller man was making in his mouth.

After a few seconds he pulled away and pointed at the green sprig, a little out of breath, "Mistletoe, eh?"

Ben nodded, warily.

Marco tuned out the absolutely _scandalized_ noises Shanks was starting to make and turned to leave, "It was good seeing you, Red-Hair. Have a good holiday, eh."


End file.
